index

Message-ID: <45871asstr$1071612605@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern)
Subject: {ASSM} Cruise by Vickie Tern 2/3 TG Femdom MC
Date: Tue, 16 Dec 2003 17:10:05 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

                                Cruise
                            by Vickie Tern
                                  2/3
 


                                 ii.

I looked into her eyes.  They were so very tender and loving and
clear.  That blue eye shadow went marvelously with her blonde hair,
and I envied her that slyly knowing look.  We'd all decided though
that I should remain a brunette, my coloring and my naive
expression went better with brunette hair, and it was better for
both of us if I didn't resemble Maddie too closely, if I was more
obviously a friend than a sister.  "I love you Maddie," I said
suddenly, out of a deep welling of my heart.  "I do so love
everything you've done to me."

"I'm sure you do, my angel.  And that love will never go away.  Dr.
Renfrew took that harmless transvestism in you and built on it,
strengthened your desire to look like a woman into a need to live
like one.  It's deep, deep down in you now, and we've drawn heavily
on it during these past two hectic weeks.  Now it's part of you.  You
know you're not a woman, but it doesn't matter, because you love
seeming to be one.  You love persuading yourself and everyone else
that's what you are.  And living with me as my girlfriend is
fabulous in itself, isn't it?  A dream come true!  Isn't that so?"

"Yes!" I whispered.  "Oh, yes!"

"Leslie, remember everything!" Maddie said, almost chanting the
words.  Then twice more.  "Remember everything!  Remember
everything!"  Then she just sat there and watched.

It was like waking up from a dream into a different dream.  There
I was on the couch in my own living room, wearing my lovely silk
jersey print blouse with the pleated cotton skirt -- now how did I
know that's what it was? -- and my taupe pantyhose, though with a
light-days sanitary napkin in front to flatten my bulge.  And a
dainty silver pendant on a chain around my neck to match the dainty
silver earrings swinging from my almost-healed pierced ears.  And
a curly halo of hair that really only needs combing, though it
certainly benefits from a biweekly cut and set -- I'd just come
from getting one for the trip.  I then remembered the salon where
Maureen had done my hair and Sarah my nails, all three of us
chatting away, talking about how hard it is to keep your set in
damp ocean air but how easily hair curls in that climate, and how
far to let a ship-board romance go.  Things like that, girl things. 
I'd been about to tell them about Evan when Maddie came to pick me
up.  Then while driving me home, Maddie had said words that
returned me to an awareness of myself as I had been before visiting
Dr. Renfrew.  But not since.

Now I remembered the rest of it.  Visiting Evan at his house,
Brett's house since he'd signed it over to her.  How Evan and I had
made love in his darling little bedroom, down the hall from Brett's
large one.  Evan now looked as feminine as I did, though Brett had
kept him aware of the process the whole time because she enjoyed
his humiliation, always telling us that it was he who enjoyed it. 
He told me what had been done to him, speaking in a low voice about
how we both "have to get used to things, or else."  We'd undressed
each other.  Then we'd sucked each other's erections and had taken
turns -- Evan first, since he knew how and was teaching me how --
we took turns fucking each other royally.  

I remember Brett had wanted to videotape all of it so she could
gloat afterward, but Maddie forbid it.  "My Leslie does things
for me because he loves me," she'd told Brett somewhat tartly. 
"Not because he's afraid I might tell everyone and embarrass him. 
I always want to know that's why he does anything, and I always
want him to know that's why too.  So no pictures.  If I want him
to, he'll tell the world all about how he's now a sissy girl and a
cock sucker, and how much he loves it, and if I ever want to tell
the world I know he'll give me permission.  Videotapes and
blackmail would threaten the perfect trust we now have in each
other."  

She made that speech while Evan and I each had the other's
elongated cocks in our mouths.  I remember I was so grateful for it
that I went crazy, sliding my lips up and down Evan's tube so
furiously that it spurted its cream long before mine did.  

Then I remembered how strange it had felt, Evan's prick buried in
my bum and sliding in and out of it as if greased -- it probably
was.  Full, then empty, then full.  Different from Maddie's dildo,
warmer and somehow more satisfying, and pulsing repeatedly -- I
could feel it lurch over and over as he filled my guts with cum. 
Yet when I did him, he'd enjoyed it a lot more.  He'd moaned and
writhed and screeched under me until I couldn't wait any longer and
came in buckets.  His ass was much tighter than Maddie's.  And
though he'd been on hormones for six months and had small natural
breasts, his body was nowhere near as comfortingly soft as
Maddie's.  I still preferred to embrace Maddie with my penis or her
dildo joining us together as one.  It almost didn't matter which.

I remembered how, a few days later, Evan had came over to show me
two dinner dresses he'd just bought, and an evening gown that was
perfection!  He lacked confidence in his own taste, the poor dear,
so he knew nothing of the skill I'd developed putting together
different looks and costumes for myself.  He needed to see himself
reflected in my delight at his appearance, so he came over hoping
I'd approve his purchases.

Of course I did.  When I'd gushed over the last dress and he'd
returned it to its hanger and he was wearing only his bra, panties,
stockings, and heels, I led him to my bed and Maddie's, and there
we sucked and fucked each other for over an hour, while I assured
him that he was truly gorgeous, a dish, an absolutely lovely girl.
He did so need compliments!  Then when he gratefully packed his
cock deep into me, I found genuine bliss for the first time.  That
thing inside me was heaven!  Knowing it was Evan, part of a man's
live body, apparently made a huge difference.  Maddie was
everything to me, but her dildo wasn't. 

I do remember that Maddie came up to see what all the noise was
about just as Evan was pumping his sperm into me and I was
squealing and screaming.  She just stood watching.  I remember I
mouthed "Thank you" and other loving words at her while she beamed
her pleasure back at me.  At dinner that night, Maddie explained
why she and Brett wanted us to feel truly intimate with each other. 
She and the other girls thought that since Evan and I would be
sharing a cabin, we'd enjoy sharing our bodies too.  So they
wanted to encourage us to have sex more often.  It would help
persuade me that I was a woman, and as far as Brett
was concerned it would humiliate Evan all the more, further
consolidate her control over him.  Now that we'd done it, we should
feel free to do it again any time again during our two weeks on
board ship, when we wouldn't anyhow be sleeping with our wives. 
That is, if we didn't happen to be sleeping with anyone else.  

"There's another reason too," Maddie told me,  "You're getting to
be quite a lovely girl.  If some nice young man should get smitten
with you, you wouldn't want to be altogether virginal when you show
him how you appreciate his attentions, when you want to help him
feel glad he's a man.  I could if I wanted put passionate longings
into your head that you could then direct toward any man or fetish
object, even toward a candle or a soda bottle.  Dr. Renfrew put a
trigger in you for that kind of euphoric transfer of affect.  But
I'd rather not use it.  Sincerity is so much nicer."   

I remembered spending hours in the salon, and the popping sound
when my ears were pierced, and the dull ache in my breasts when I
first came home with those balloons bulging from my chest, but then
my pride when after three days the surgical bra came off and there
they were, my beautiful soft globes, my own melons, lovely, just
like any other woman's!  And there were my nipples poking out from
them, so gloriously erogenous when Maddie or Evan caressed them, or
I did it myself!  When I first saw them, if I weren't so weak I
would have danced around the room, admiring and feeling myself up!

Then in between all of these things, I remembered shopping with
Maddie and with Ashley.  That is, when Ashley wasn't teaching me
phrasing and voice modulation and feminine movements and postures,
and how to flirt, even how to fake orgasms if I can't manage the
real thing but want to send a man home satisfied.  Trying on all
sorts of lingerie and slips and gowns and frocks and dresses, and
pants and slacks.  Trying out all sorts of shades of make-up at the
make-up bar of our largest department store.  Deciding how to apply
it to look prim if that's what I wanted, or sultry, depending.  A
girl is always free to choose her mood.

One of my loveliest memories was simply of lunching with my
friends, Maddie's friends, all five of us women with Evan alongside
unwillingly, though also a woman, during a pause in a shopping
trip.  Evan participated in the conversation hardly at all,
because he didn't really enjoy girl things, but Maddie and Fay and
Brett and Ashley and I had wonderful rapport.  We complimented each
other on the things we'd bought that were just right for us, and we
gossiped about some of our neighbors, and we settled on a date to
see together a wonderful romantic movie just coming to town. 
Ashley and Fay told us silly stories about men they'd dated, what
fools they were in some ways even though admirable in others.  It
was a very ordinary luncheon, but I'll never forget it, the feeling
of belonging, of being just one more girl among other girls.  It
was such a privilege!

As women will, we took forever dividing up the check and the tip,
even though we'd each had only soup and a sandwich.  Men mock us
for that, but I realized that women don't want to be efficient when
they're together.  We want to be sociable, and we seek out any
excuse at all to interact and respond to each other.  Divvying the
check is only one more excuse.  It isn't silliness.  Men are silly
for doing that kind of thing abruptly, dividing checks down the
middle to be done with it.  But women know what life is for,  I
loved being a woman for that too.  

That night my special girlfriend Maddie and I made the tenderest,
most magical love two women have ever made.  We held each others'
breasts gently, and stroked and nibbled each other's nipples,
forever it seemed, our bodies enraptured by erotic sensations,
desire heaped on greater desire, yearning and reaching for
satisfaction and then finding it.  I sucked lovingly on her pussy
and she on my clit, until we both languished beautifully, wrapped
around each other, and came and came and were one.  That night we
needed no dildos.  We were women in love.

I remembered all those things now.  They had all happened during
the past two weeks, ever since I had left Dr. Renfrew's office
filled with wonderful new convictions but no memories of them.  Now
I remembered.  They were now all a part of my past.  I'd been a
man.  I was now a man seeking fulfillment as a woman.  That was
what I was.

The next morning, Maddie helped me to understand more about this
new commitment.

"Leslie honey, you do know that while we're on this cruise, I am
going to be socializing with other men, and there's a good chance
I'll be sleeping with some of them, just as you will be.  You do
know that, don't you?  I just want to make sure."

I looked up at her from putting on my make-up for the day, and set
down my blusher brush.  I suppose I'd considered that this might
happen, but not that it was probable.

"That's why I've wanted you to become as beautiful and feminine and
attractive as you could be, a charmer who'll attract men the way I
always did before we were married.  So you can sleep with as many
men as you like too.  Remember, on this cruise we're just good
friends.  We're not married.  We agreed on that some time ago.  So
we can't either of us be unfaithful to each other.  We're on
vacation from our fidelity to each other.  Isn't that so?"

"Yes," I said reluctantly.

"Listen to you.  As if you and Evan haven't each of you ignored
your marriage vows over and over, in the sight of God and of me
too.  I remember perfectly well the time I walked in on you when
you were squealing like a stuck pig, and I saw what Evan had stuck
you with.  And you know I was pleased when I saw you having a good
time with him, that I didn't feel the slightest bit injured or
betrayed.  Well, I haven't fucked anyone else yet.  But I mean to,
that's why I'm raising the subject now.  So you can feel free to do
the same, that's only fair.  Then when we get home we can resume
the way we were, if that's what we agree to do.  Or we'll try new
things together, if that's what we want.  I do enjoy new things, as
you well know."

"Yes," I said.  "I know."  This was something I hadn't anticipated. 
Even my change of gender didn't seem as severe and wrenching as
this upcoming change in the rules of our marriage.  I wasn't quite
sure how I felt about it.  I told Maddie this.

She seemed concerned.  "My poor dear.  This isn't about love or
togetherness, sweetheart, it's about having fun.  You should know
that by now.  If you can't enjoy this new freedom, or mine, I can
help you enjoy it.  Just look at me.  No, really!"

I did.  Her eyes were quite serious.  She held my head in the palms
of both hands and stared into my eyes.  "Sweetheart, just listen,"
she said.  "Just listen.  Just listen."

I felt compelled.  She let go of my head, and I waited eagerly,
rapt to hear her next words

"Honey, whenever you see me with a man, you'll feel so happy for
me, and the more intimate we seem to be, the happier you'll feel. 
And you know I'll feel the same about you, and you want me to be
happy about you.  You love being with men too, they're a whole
world of sex you've barely begun to explore.  Because we both love
each other, and we want each other to be happy, and right now,
being with different men is what will make us happy.  Isn't that
so?"

"Oh yes!"  I breathed.

"Remember that," she said.  "Remember that.  Remember that."

"I will," I said, delighted with the gift of freedom she was
offering me.  "You know, Maddie, it does make so much better sense
for us to take a vacation from our marriage while we're on this
cruise.  Who knows what adventures we'll have!  And think of the
fun we can have telling each other afterward!"

"Exactly," Maddie said with a cryptic smile.  I knew why she was
smiling, and I didn't mind at all.  It was sort of fun, feeling
what Maddie wanted me to feel and never worrying about it.  I
trusted her.  She was my dearest girlfriend, after all, and I was
hers.

That night while we were sharing a small salad -- we were still
getting our figures in trim, tonight we'd pack and tomorrow we'd be
flying to board the boat -- I asked her about those triggers Dr.
Renfrew had installed in me.  "Don't post-hypnotic suggestions fade
over time?" I asked her.  "How do you know that mine are still
active, if you don't trigger them now and then?"

Maddie looked over at me.  "I thought you'd get around to asking
that sooner or later, honey.  You don't remember that I triggered
some of them just today, only this afternoon?"

"You did?"  I was amazed!

"Well, I think you can answer your own question.  Look at you. 
You've completely and enthusiastically accepted living as a woman,
and you've just agreed that we can both take a vacation from our
marriage, because you want to get to know lots of men a lot better,
just as I do.  This is supposed to be for the next two weeks, and
that's how you accept everything.  It happens that your
post-hypnotic suggestions last about a week and then gradually fade
unless reinforced, that's what Dr. Renfrew arranged, because that's
all we need for the cruise."

"Yes," I know that," I said.  "That's what I agreed to."

"Yet notice what I'm really doing to you, baby.  It's already two
weeks, and your desires are as strong as ever.  Your closets and
bureaus are filled with clothes you'll be wearing long after this
two-week cruise ends, and you haven't asked why.  You've been on
female hormones for two weeks now, changing your body, and you take
your pills daily and you have a six month supply.  You have lovely
tits, and a pretty face, and liposuction has given you hips and a
cute ass, and those things don't go away by themselves after two
weeks.  Yet you don't question any of this, it all seems natural to
you.  That easy acceptance of everything, that's what fades unless
I reinforce it.  And these things never occur to you, because I
don't want you to bother your pretty head thinking about them.  So
the answer to your question is, of course I reinforce your
conditioning now and then.  Whenever you seem troubled by
anything."

"I guess you do, then," I said grinning, getting up to clear the
table and stack the dishes.  "But not long ago, when you took me
out of that two-week amnesia, didn't you tell me to remember
everything?"  

"I did, honey.  And so you do," she said.  "With Dr. Renfrew's
help, you admitted to yourself that you want to live the rest of
your life like a woman, and you love it now that I'm willing to
help you.  That's what you remember.  And you remember to take your
pills, and fix your hair to look presentable first thing every day,
and choose your outfits to mix and match well.  You remember that
kind of thing now because I told you to remember them, just as
earlier I told you not to remember.  You still don't remember
everything though, honey, no one does.  And there are still lots of
things in your life that you simply don't notice these days because
I see no reason for you to notice them."

I had no idea what she meant.  She stood up.

"Well, I'm glad we had this talk, but we still need to get ready
for our trip tomorrow.  Honey, I'll have my coffee black, served
this time in the living room.  No need to curtsy when you serve it,
even though I know you love to show me that mark of respect.  It
wouldn't look right when we're with others who think we're just
friends.  And don't pack your maid's uniforms -- the ship's crew
will be serving both of us.  Awww, don't look so disappointed. 
Remember, when we're all on that cruise shop you'll be the
sprightliest girl among us.  The life of the party!  The life of
the party!  The life of the party!  That's you.  I think you can
begin being that now." 
 
"I certainly can, honey," I said, looking over my shoulder as I
marched into the kitchen with plates in hand.  "Coffee in a jiff! 
Oh, just wait till I tell you the latest thing Evan says Brett
makes him do when he's naughty!  Eeuww!  You may not want to drink
coffee or anything else ever afterward!"  

That night while packing my bags for the voyage I noticed that my
chosen style was slightly slutty.  My dresses and skirts were way
short, and my gowns were decollete way down -- one of them all the
way to the waist.  And my heels were strappy and very high, and my
bras were skimpy lace that barely covered my boobs much less
supported them, and my lipsticks and nail lacquers were deep, dark
red.  Well, I shrugged, if that's what I like, if that's the kind
of girl I am, I suppose I should do it up right and enjoy it.

And I've got to say, I did.  I loved that cruise.  From the moment
we got on board and were shown to our staterooms!  Everything was
perfect!  Clean decks and corridors, sparkling railings, and the
neat, elegant decor of every cabin or stateroom I was in -- and
during the next twelve days and nights I was invited into a lot of
them -- all these gave me a wonderful feeling of pampered luxury. 
 Evan and I were assigned a huge stateroom on the starboard side of
B deck, near the bow and the shuffleboard courts, where all the gay
men and lesbian women congregated -- there was a transgendered
couple in the area too, they told us, but we never saw them. 
Maddie and Fay and Brett and Ashley all had cabins together but far
from us, on the port side of C deck, way toward the stern.  That,
I noticed, was where the body builders seemed to be located, near
the Nautilus and Weight Rooms and the outdoor swimming pool.  

That was what Maddie'd arranged when she first filled in my
acceptance card and listed our preferences, and then phoned to
confirm.  That's how we'd respect each other's privacy, she
explained to me.  She reminded me how we'd agreed to take a
vacation from our marriage.  I felt a little deprived of her
company, but saw how it made sense.

Soon enough it didn't matter.  Because there was a cute guy named
Roy in the stateroom next to ours, with curly hair like mine, only
blonde, loads of fun, and as I soon found out, well, you wouldn't
believe the dong he had on him!  His roommate was a lawyer named
Davis, a closeted gay man who only shacked up on cruise ships to
protect his reputation as a tough litigator back home.  Davis was
instantly smitten with Evan. and though Evan wasn't happy about it
at first, they disappeared into the stateroom Davis shared with
Ron, and Ron moved in with me, and Davis and Evan practically
weren't seen again for the entire two weeks.  God did Evan get
fucked!  I saw him a few times, limping, haggard, hardly getting
any sleep.  It seems Davis hadn't had any sex at all for six
months, it was too risky to his reputation, and now he was making
up for it.  Evan smiled wanly when he told me how he now felt like
a life-sized re-usable condom.  But, he added, it wasn't too bad. 
By the end of the cruise I noticed that Evan was much more
affectionate with Davis.  They held hands and snuggled, and there
was this unmistakeable, deeply peaceful expression on Evan's face
that told me he'd at last come around.  He was in love with a man! 
He'd actually become what Brett had taunted him he was becoming.  

I heard all about it the night of the Captain's ball, our final
night at sea.  Evan looked gorgeous at dinner that evening -- he
wore a cerise gown that clung to his every curve and actually
allowed his enlarged nipples to peek out at the world.  His figure
was even more willowy than I'd remembered, and now he was clinging
devotedly to his Davis.  He told me that Davis and he were both one
man men.  He added that Davis specialized in divorces and was sure
he could handle Brett without even taking off his kid gloves. 
She'd get no property settlement, Evan said, and she deserved none. 

"Because I'm not going back to Brett," Evan told me that last night
on board, when we were finally in bed together for the last time,
hugging each other, feeling serene and relaxed because we'd just
sucked each other off for the last time, sadly enough but for old
time's sake.  "Davis loves me.  And I love him too -- he's so nice,
and he's so very much in charge!  I need that, now that Brett's put
me down so thoroughly.  He wants me to come live with him, and work
for him, and then to marry him just as soon as I can get sex
reassignment surgery to make it legal.  And that's just what I
intend to do."  Davis had given him a huge engagement ring he
showed me proudly, diamonds and topazes, an incredibly valuable
array that had once belonged to Davis's grandmother, certain
testimony that Davis was altogether sincere.  I cried and hugged
Evan for joy. 

Brett never noticed that Evan's supposed one-night affair had
progressed to a romance, to an attachment that blossomed into love. 
I suppose she assumed I was keeping Evan busy, out of trouble, out
of her sight and out of mind.  She, Fay, Ashley, and Maddie had set
up a round robin of stacked guys who filed in and out of their
cabins and staterooms, and it never ended.  I saw one or another of
the girlfriends in the dining room a few times, each time with a
different man, and I felt a little hurt, because I'd originally
thought I was one of their gang.  I'd often see them dancing
intimately, romantically, plastered to someone, in quite a few of
the ship's Cabarets and Discos.  I heard that Brett took several
men back to her cabin with her every evening, sometimes in
sequence, sometimes all at once.  Obviously she couldn't care less
about her husband.

I had a wife, of course, and I was pleased that Maddie was well
attended in my absence.  I was happy to see that she felt close to
whoever she was with and didn't miss me at all.  She stopped by my
table once to compliment me on my singing -- I'd just won a prize
in an amateur contest by singing "My Man" in a husky voice while
climbing seductively all over the guy I was with.  And she told me
how delighted she was that I felt as uninhibited as she did.  I
smiled and told her the same thing. 

After all, we were on vacation from our marriage.  We had no
problem.  Once, when I was strolling around the deck at midnight
with a new beau, and we were stopping often to kiss each other
softly, just as his hand finally reached under my blouse and
grasped one of my breasts affectionately I saw Maddie in a deck
chair in the shadows, under a colossal bruiser.  Her long gown was
bunched around her waist and her legs were wrapped tight around him
while he pumped her repeatedly, and with each thrust her throat
issued a primal satisfied grunt.  When we returned on our second
turn of the deck, me walking much more slowly because I'd just
stuffed a tampon into my ass to keep my admirer's semen from
staining my dress, they were still at it.  By then I wondered
whether he'd fucked her brains out altogether, because though her
arms and legs were still tight-clenched around him as far as they
could go, and her face was still mashed to his, she was uttering
not one sound.  Was she unconscious?  Was she breathing?  I watched
closely, and finally was reassured to see her body tighten and
release in yet one more unmistakeable orgasm, while he kept at it
and she began to build toward another.

I loved it that she loved getting fucked.  I loved my Maddie for
what she'd done to me, too.  She'd told me to be delighted with
everything, to be sprightly, cheery, scintillating, buoyant, to
enjoy everything.  And that's what I was doing.  With wonderful
guys, me in and out of their staterooms, them in and out of me! 
I'd had no idea my tits and my asshole could be such marvelously
rich sources of pleasure, and I wondered how I could ever go back
to Maddie's jelly dildo now that I'd known the real thing!  I'd
give blow jobs from sheer gratitude for the way guys fucked me! 
Whether dancing to different shipboard orchestras or telling lies
to each other as we sat over drink after drink, party followed
party, one man after another, and it was all perfect!  Each time
the ship paused at a port -- Antigua or Barbados, who knew? -- the
women would pour off the ship to shop, and the men would feel free
to see if my mouth or my rear also happened to be free.  I loved
them all.  And I loved both of my body's openings.  Life was good.

end 2/3
VickieTern@AOL.COM

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+